


The Violet Herring

by nixthejuju



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gang Violence, Gangs, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Possible Character Death, School Dances, Sexual Violence, Slow Burn, Slurs, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25094230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nixthejuju/pseuds/nixthejuju
Summary: Cronus Ampora has lived a cruel and twisted life, at just a Junior in high school he had been through more than an eighty year old man should have. Growing up in a broken and abusive household, he knew nothing other than how to fight, how to hurt anyone and everyone who came near him. He was alone, and he preferred it no other way. He was a grade A bully, beating down others just to chase the fleeting high of dopamine flooding his brain. It never lasted, and as such it was an addictive cycle that only left him more hollow in the end.He needed saving, though nobody dared tread close to the imploding supernovae that was his being. Instead he fought and fought, beaten down to death's doorstop in his free time. It was all he knew, and all he cared to learn, to be better, stronger, faster than anyone who dare challenge him. Yet, despite this seething rage that boiled in the bottomless hole, a series of chance encounters may leave him whole in the end. Complete.Mituna Captor, a weakling and a nobody in Cronus' mind stumbled in the door of his reinforced mental fortress, changing him forever.
Relationships: Cronus Ampora & Orphaner Dualscar, Cronus Ampora & Roxy Lalonde, Cronus Ampora/Mituna Captor, Cronus Ampora/Roxy Lalonde, Mituna Captor & Kurloz Makara, Mituna Captor & The Psiioniic | The Helmsman, Mituna Captor/Latula Pyrope
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Enter: Cronus Ampora

Cronus Ampora had come to school littered in bruises once more. It was nothing out of the norm, anyone who took the time to look at him had long since become used to it. Despites this, it was painful to look at him, making just about anyone cringe at the thought of being so beat up all of the time. The people who didn't feel bad for him found him repulsive and avoided him at all costs.

Now this would be a sob story if Cronus actually cared, but he didn't. No tears today, fortunately. The only reason he even came to school anymore is because his father, Vice Principal Dualscar, would have his head for dropping out. Dualscar kept a safety blanket of sorts over Cronus, refusing to let the faculty even fathom questioning if the kid was okay. The Vice Principal seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere, if anyone dared to ask more than "Are you okay?" would have their jobs tied upon a metaphorical noose, ready to hang at any moment if they inquired further. The principal of the school let this pass, and it's no wonder considering the shady rumors that swirled around her somewhat mysterious being.

None of this particularly mattered to Cronus though. In fact, it helped him tremendously in his plight of questionable business he was knee deep in. He in all honesty would like to stay out of the spotlight and mind his own business. Luckily he would be able to do that soon, only a year and half left in the pitiable hell he called school. Though just a Junior in school, he was unnervingly smart. Hell, if he actually put effort into his education he would perhaps even have straight A's, but he didn't care enough and as such, his grades were mediocre at best.

As he thought barely coherent thoughts, Cronus was occupying his desk located as far from the front of his room as he could possibly get. It was easier to get away with doing whatever the fuck he does during class. Currently he was taking a nap, having stayed up late last. He didn't have time to rest his fresh wounds from the night previous. He would have stayed home and slept all day if not for his father pushing him off the couch he had passed out on after getting home late into the night.

His bruises ached even worse in the parts of his body that connected with the floor during his rude awakening. He was so tired that the pain was numb in some fucked up way. He had a high pain tolerance, for sure, but last night really got the best of him, draining his energy and leaving searing pain in its wake. The scar running along his lips had split open once again and a small bit of blood had pooled at the wound, looking gnarly to all hell.

Regardless of his fucked up lip, he was out cold, breathing softly as he slept. Nobody paid mind to him, and those who happened to see him passed out blatantly ignored him. Either not surprised or not caring enough to do something about it. Maybe even both. Even if it was neither the dude really looked like he needed some sleep. This is how it should be, everyone ignores him and he ignores anyone that doesn't piss him off.

Nobody really knew why Cronus always looked so beat up, yet, taking one look at his intimidating presence was scary enough to not question further. That was how he liked it, he despised meddlers almost as much as he despised weaklings. He couldn't stand seeing people who couldn't defend themselves, it disgusted him that their lives had been such a walk in the park that they could have zero ability to protect themselves and still be alive.

Not that it particularly affected him, he could defend himself to the point of excessivity. He'd always been freakishly strong even as a little kid. He grew faster than the other kids and dominated playground games in elementary school. Though, that was much too long ago to look back fondly upon. He now lived in a much harsher and dull reality than looking through the lense of the world full of bright colors and endless possibilities kids saw their surroundings through.

Cronus, though asleep, was hyper aware of his surroundings. Sleeping with one eye open as you will, it had been like this since he was a kid. When he was young, his nights were restless as he lay in fear of his father walking into his small apartment bedroom that was shared with his kid brother. Though, that is a story for a later time.

Regardless of his childhood trauma and whatnot, it was something that could not be reversed. Not that Cronus particularly wanted to hash up his long since buried childhood memories. Deeper than those memories lay any feelings besides anger and spitefulness. In fact, Cronus couldn't recall a single time he had felt anything besides empty and angry in many years.

Emotion makes the mind weak, and with a weak mind your body withers along with your mental fortitude. The one thing Cronus wasn't was weak. Weak wasn't a word that could describe himself in any way shape or form. At least nothing he could reflect about himself was weak, but then again he was never quite skilled in self introspection.

Out of nowhere a phone began to rang, interrupting the teacher in the middle of a very endearing lecture over the importance of math or some shit like that. Cronus was too sleepy to care, or at least he was. He slowly woke up as the sound of ringing sliced through the air. He looked around angrily, looking for the person who dared to interrupt his nap.

As the phone continued to ring eyes began turning in his direction, staring at him with wide eyes. Narrowing his own, he realized that it was, in fact, his own phone ringing. Even worse, he knew exactly who was calling him based on the shrill ringtone set for that person. What impeccable timing.

Without acknowledging the curious stares he stood up, leaving the classroom. Nobody tried to protest against him considering his intimidating nature and who his father was. He flipped open the wailing phone and pressed the small green "answer call" button.

"Vwhat the fuck do you vwant." Cronus spat, his voice hostile as a few lingering students in the hall looked at him in fear.

A cold voice crackled out of the speaker into his ear, "Now, now Cronus. You know not to take the tone with me, yes? Good," the caller didn't give him the time to answer, "now then, I have a job for you."

Cronus rolled his eyes and spitefully asked, "Oh yeah? Vwhat is it?" though his tone was more even, trying not to piss off the owner of the voice reprimanding him.

"We'll talk about it when you get here, you've got 15 minutes." The caller hung up the phone, a dead phone line noise wailing in his ear.


	2. The Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cronus meets up with his employer.

Cronus left the campus within moments, ignoring everyone as he went back into his class, grabbed his backpack, and left promptly. Not a word of acknowledgement to the teacher as to where he was going. Eyes bore into his back as he existed, burning holes of curiosity into him. The teacher stood still, the lecture paused as she watched as the door slammed to a close behind him.

He walked down the narrow school hallways, long legs carrying him to the entrance in just a handful of steps. He exited the building, pushing open one of the doors gruffly with his foot. His heavy combat boots made a sickeningly satisfying crunch against the door under the force of his kick. The door flew open in a dramatic woosh, scaring a nearby group of students as the obnoxious noise rattled from the door.

The high schooler stalked to the parking lot, hands shoved in the pockets of his blue jeans as his back arched just a bit forwards, accentuating his annoyance. He kicked a piece of loose pavement, launching it across the parking lot as it hit the tire of a car adjacent with a soft ‘plunk’. How anticlimactic. He walked around the parking lot the long way, heading towards the very back, walking quickly while trying to extend the time before he had to leave.

Cronus, much quicker than he would have liked, arrived at the skinny motorcycle parking blocks. The boy slung his backpack off his shoulder and grabbed a few things from the front pocket, most notably a half-filled pack of American Spirits and a small violet BIC lighter with a few Sharpie doodles he had adorned it with a while back. He tucked his backpack into the back compartment, shimmying out his keychain from his pocket and locked the container. The key jangled obnoxiously as he pulled back from tucking away his belongings.

He walked to the front of his bike as he shoved the smokes and lighter in his jean’s deep pockets. Sliding his right leg over the cushioned leather seat, he kicked up the metal kickstand with a sharp thunk as it clicked into place. He put the key into the ignition, turning it sharply as the engine roared to life, music to his ears. The rumbling calmed his intricately upset mind, lulling him out of his anger induced stupor.

He did not don a helmet as he exited the parking spot, long since figuring that nobody would miss him if a crash put him out of his miserable life. His dad certainly wouldn’t, much less all the bridges he had burned with anyone else who dared impede in his life. Not even his little brother could stand being near him, seeing all the wounds he had, the disregard for the sanctity of his life. It was too much.

He sped out of the parking lot and onto the open roads. They were clear, spare a few cars as most were in school or at work by now. He peeled through the streets, running red lights if they got in his way. His... connections gave him a free pass for violations such as speeding or running lights, not that he’d give a fuck regardless. The chilly October wind cut through his skin his thick leather jacket hardly helped. Though, he was numb to any pain caused by it from now. 

Cronus had pulled into the parking lot of a shady storefront in an even shadier part of town. A large worn down sign stated “Max’s Training Gym” in bolded black block letters. The paint had long since began peeling on the overhead sign, the boarded wood warped with the weather over time. The double doors had iron bars fastled behind them to prevent break ins. Not that anyone would plan to rob a Gym. Well, not likely to plan to do so at least.

He took out his keychain once more, pulling up a strange looking neon green key. It was the most unusual key on his chain and the sign of his employer. If someone personally knew his employer, just the sight of the key would make them cower in fear. He dropped the rest of his keys to hang from the bottom of the ring as he slid it into the lock gingerly. The lock slid open with a clink as he jimmied the key around.

Gently, he pushed open the door, careful not to even get a single fingerprint smudge of the glass doors. Entering slowly, he looked around. The gym still hadn’t opened yet, seeing as it was still quite a bit early in the morning. He walked up to the counter. It seemed the caller harassing him earlier was not in the front room. He grabbed a sucker from the jar at the counter meant for children accompanying their parents to training.

Cronus unwrapped it, tucking the wrapper into the pocket of his jeans as he popped the candy in his mouth. He walked slowly toward the door of the back room, taking his sweet time. He wanted to enter when fifteen minutes hit on the dot. A small passive aggressive action his employer was sure to notice, perhaps even comment on. He still had a minute or so left so he got down on his knee and untied then re-tied the lace of his shoe.

Finally, he stood up, straightening his usually slumped posture. He knocked as he took out his keychain once more, grabbing another key, this one being a solid white. The notches of the key had chipped, revealing small slivers of silver from wear. He unlocked the door, said door always being locked even if occupied. The seized up doorknob loosened as he unlocked it and slowly opened the door with another knock as it swung open.

A large mahogany desk painted intricately with white swirls of various patterns faced the door. A large neon green faux leather swivel chair’s back faced Cronus, obviously occupied as the top of a man’s head could be seen peeking over. He stepped into the room, shutting and locking the door behind himself.

The chair slowly swiveled, revealing a man who looked to be in his mid thirties. His unnervingly unique look made Cronus’ heart speed up as uncontrollable fear bubbled in his throat, a reaction beat into him. This man wasn’t scary at first look, his actions are what strikes fear into one’s heart. A cruel, heartless bastard, he was.

The man was tall, adorned in a neon green button up shirt with a white vest covering his thin chest. A bow tie in a darker shade of green gripped his collar tightly, accentuating his strange outfit. His legs weren’t visible from Cronus’s vantage, though Cronus knew by heart exactly what he was wearing. White slacks and neon green loafers. It was the same every time he showed himself.

The most striking thing about this man was not his outfit, however. His facial features were unnerving, every inch of hair was blinding snow white. His slicked back hair, his eyebrows, his eyelashes looked completely albino. Even more striking, his iris’ were a neon green, matching the shade of his clothing and chair. Though tacky on any other being, his clothing only added to his intimidating aura. Sharply pressed, his outfit held no creases.

“Cronus my dear. Welcome.” He said shortly, his voice slicing through the air like a freshly sharpened knife.

“Thanks, Doctor,” he paused, trying not to spit out the words angrily, “you needed me?”

The Doctor’s mouth curled into a cold, emotionless smile, “We have a new challenger. Tonight, eleven pm.”

“I figured. Vwho is challenging?” Cronus asked, trying to match the dead, emotionless tone the man in front of him was using.

“Mallek Adalov. Kid from a small town nearby looking for some extra spending cash. He won’t know what hit him.” The Doctor said, a cruel enjoyment lacing his tone, excited to cash in on a poor, naive kid.

Cronus frowned, this seemed too easy. His opponents are usually much tougher sounding. The gears in his head turned quickly trying to quickly go through all the possible outcomes of this fight. All of them ended in him winning, unless The Doctor was leaving something out. That was highly likely but questioning would get him not further. Best to push it from his mind to avoid overworking his mind before the match.

After a few more hellish minutes of shitty pleasantries, Cronus left the Gym, leaving the front door unlocked for customers. The gym was opening the same time he left, as it usually goes with his meetings with The Doctor. He didn’t like his prized underground fighter mingling with the regular daytime customers. On his way out he passed by the secretary and right hand woman of his employer. Her alias was simply ‘The Handmaid’, nobody but presumably The Doctor knew her full name.

He got back on his bike and headed straight home, hoping to get a nap in before the match later in the evening. Fuck what his dad would say when he saw his son skipped practically the entire day. Nothing his dad could do would hurt him more than what he received daily. When he arrived home he could barely set his stuff down before he passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for enjoying the chapter! If you have any questions, comments or critiques don't hesitate to reach out!


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